


Listen Up

by dromayr



Series: Andromeda [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Brotherly Asriel, Frisk's 20 and the Dreemurr siblings are 22, I wanted something cute okay?, NB Frisk and Chara, Other, bad coping strategies, don't smoke and drink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-31 02:39:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6452197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dromayr/pseuds/dromayr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, your partner needs some comfort for some silly (to you) reasons like worrying about you too much for their own good.</p><p>So, sometimes, you comfort them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Listen Up

Chara is nursing their fifth cigarette on the back stoop when you find them. The air has a definite chilly bite to it, but they seem to either not care or not feel it given their poor choice in attire compared to your own jacket-clad form.

It’s concerning to Asriel and to you, as you know that the three of you all share the horrid habit of withholding emotionally volatile information from each other. Their shoulders aren’t poised in their natural, confident state and instead hang inward towards their breast, forearms weighing on their thighs. Their whole body screams defeat of some sort, so you decide it’s time for a chat.

When you drop your weight next to them, they curse in Greek and shift away to give you room. As they do so, they shift their posture into a false mirror of your own – upright and attentive.

“Hey there, Frisk.” Chara greets, toying with their lighter’s flint wheel and avoiding your gaze.

You only raise your arm in response, asking silent permission to give them physical contact. Chara nods their affirmation and allows you to grip the shoulder opposite to your side. With a soft smile, you squeeze.

“Wanna talk about it?” You ask, though you can guess the upcoming response.

“Not particularly.” Bingo. Your own reply comes in the form of a sigh and hanging your head slightly, as though disappointed with their refusal. “I bet you’d feel better after a drink or two.” You invite.

“I thought you didn’t drink.”

“I don’t, but you do.”

“…Yeah, you’ve got me there.” With their eyebrow still cocked at you, they stand up and offer you a hand to pull yourself up. You watch the way their scarred skin moves over their lean muscles, years of training to better themselves shining in their every powerful movement.

Honestly, everything Chara does is powerful, you find yourself thinking. Their every glance is reminiscent of some great beast, hurt and shunned by man and left with nothing but fear, hatred, internal strength and its sharpened claws. But at the same time, also much like a wild cat, Chara has a hidden grace that is revealed to few and a level of attachment and affection towards their small, patchwork family that is impressive. You also let your train of thought bring itself to the idea that even the mightiest of creatures can need the help of their peers.

Honestly, your biggest battles with Chara are your attempts to get them to let others in without fear of reproach or becoming a burden. As they seat themselves at the kitchen table, you watch the sky through the window as the dark clouds pass overhead.

“Isn’t it like 9 in the morning?” Chara questions, cracking open a bottle of fruity malt liquor that you had already placed at their usual seat. “Yeah, but who said we ever followed the rules?”

That earns you a surprised snort, laughter trying to rise from someone who doesn’t often indulge.

“Yeah, Frisky, I guess that’s true.”

“C’mon, don’t call me that.”

“Call you what? Frisky?” You giggle. “You act like it isn’t a good descriptor. Your energy is through the roof all the time.”

“I know you _Chara_ lot about me, but I don’t need nicknames.”

“It’s a hell of a lot better than what those bastard humans call you-“Their jaw snaps shut with an audible click, teeth grinding as their jaw muscles clench in anger. Ah, that’s a part of their problem, you suppose. You already don’t fit in well with other humans, seeing how you live willingly with monsters instead of your birth kind enrages most and pleases few in the human communities. Add in what constitutes as dark “alien” skin to more prejudiced humans and it certainly hasn’t helped your sense of belonging.

“Is that what’s bothering you?”

Chara stays silent, stubbornly.

You sigh through your nose.

“You can’t let what they say get to you. If you do, everything that comes out of their mouths’ll just make you angrier.”

“I can’t do that, and you know it. The shit they talk once your back is turned makes me want to break their teeth and watch them swallow the pieces. The things they call you…” They take your hand from your side and squeeze, knuckles on both of your hands turning white.

You’re not ignorant of the humans’ biting words. In fact, you use them as a gauge to determine how far your progress in human-monster relations is going.

You return Chara’s vice-like grip on your hand and think hard on your words.

“I know exactly what they say, and I know exactly why they say it. They’re afraid; afraid of the monsters that were under their beds as kids, afraid of sharing their cramped world with us, afraid of caring, and afraid of change. But they’re just being stupid. Just means I’ve got more work to do.”

“You shouldn’t have to fight with the humans just to get them to give us equal treatment.”

You’re about to say something more when Asriel’s soft padding down the stairs makes itself audible and he enters the kitchen.

He pauses, takes notice of an unhappy Chara, a comforting Frisk, and the presence of alcohol and raises a furry brow.

“What happened?” he inquires, buttoning his left sleeve cuff.

“Nothing.” Chara practically spits, not happy with themselves for even opening up to begin with.

“Uh-huh.” Asriel seats himself on their opposite side before gently rubbing their shoulder.

Idly, you wonder if you will have to be the one to tell him what’s going on or if Chara will step up to the plate.

“I just…” They take a steadying sip of their overly fruity liquor.

“It’s infuriating. The humans, I mean.” The former prince of the underground is all too understanding, shaking his head and ignoring the flopping of his ears.

“You can’t let what they say get to you like this, Chara.”

They snort, grimace, and resume their drinking.

“I already tried, Az.” You state, more amused with Chara’s stubbornness than concerned. You know now that this situation stems from their protectiveness of their partners. “Anyways, the other humans are just big assholes. You’ve got us.” You place your chin on their head, suppressing the urge to giggle in their ear.

“Since when do you swear, Frisky-two-shoes?” Chara asks, bemused for the time being.

“Whenever the fuck I want, thank you very fucking much.” There it is, the soft chortle of theirs and Asriel’s loud guffaw.

Now that the situation is temporarily defused, you seat yourself with your favorite mug and some chai tea. Asriel begins talking animatedly about his monster history lesson he’s giving at the local university later, and you tune him out ever so slightly as you reassuringly squeeze Chara’s fingers and give them a sly but warm smile.

They’re more subtle about it, but they return the favor.

And as you sit there, you can’t help but feel at home.

“No, Asriel! That’s not how that story went!”

“Fight me.”

Yep, right at home.


End file.
